The Old Man and the Sea

Reviewed by Simon Vousden – HMP Bullingdon

The Old Man and the Sea won Hemmingway a Nobel Prize for Literature in 1954. His passion for deep-sea fishing is reflected in this wonderfully written novel. It’s a story of an old man who has spent a lifetime at sea, a boy taught to fish by the old man and a giant Marlin living far out in the depths of the ocean. Santiago, the old man, was thin and withered, his skin damaged by the sun, his hands scarred from handling fishing lines. He looked old and tired but his eyes still danced with life. Mandolin, the young boy, had fished with the old man since he was five. The boy had learnt so much from the old man about fishing and about life and still believed in him. The old man had not caught a fish for eighty-four days, that’s a long time to go without a fish when you are a fisherman. The boy had fished with the old man for the first forty days. But, after forty days without catching a fish his parents had insisted he change and fish with a lucky boat, he had caught fish with a lucky boat. Eighty-five would be a lucky number, the old man said. The old man was poor and he lived alone. He loved the boy like a son. The boy still helped the old man with his boat, lines and sails. He bought beer for the old man and made sure he ate and had coffee in the mornings. He felt sad for the old man. He would get him more clothes for winter and another blanket to keep him warm. He loved the old man. In the evenings they talked of baseball. The Yankees, with the great DiMaggio. The Tigers of Detroit and The Indians of Cleveland, The Reds of Cincinnati and The White Sox of Chicago. They loved baseball. DiMaggio’s father, like the old man, had been a fisherman. The old man needed a big fish. He was going very far out, where the big fish were. He knew the sea so well. He treasured the clean, early morning smell of the ocean. He loved the flying fish, the sound it made with its wings. He hated the Portuguese Man-of-War, he called her a whore, her poison was dangerous and stuck fast, many times it had poisoned his hands from the lines. He spoke of the sea as ‘her’, a woman, feminine. She gave or held great favours and when she was wild or wicked she could not help it. Like a woman she was affected by the moon. He loved the colours of the sea, the way she changed with the light. Above he saw a bird circling. He knew it would lead to fish. He followed keeping his lines upright. He always kept his lines upright, he fished properly. He talked out loud to himself. His line moved, he held it softly. Then it moved again, nothing. Then it came again. He knew it was a Marlin, eating his sardines from the hook. Eat them, come on my fish, eat well. He waited, nothing. Then a heavy pull, nothing. He waited, another pull, it was hard and heavy and the line slipped with the weight of the fish…

This is a story about great friendship, loyalty and love. For the old man it’s a battle of wits against the Giant Marlin, against nature, a battle he wins but ultimately loses. This is a great book, a masterpiece, and I would thoroughly recommend it.